Put Me In My Place | MxMxM

Chapter 06

Two years after the fight between the Salvatore families.

Lorenzo and Darius had let Zane go outside for the first time since the Second Family's downfall. It was not far. It was not where he would've chosen to go if given the choice. It was in the background of the First Family's compound where the bodyguards looked on, some with pity when they saw the chains on his ankles, some with cautionary eyes, and some with a pompous sneer on their lips. And he ignored them like he ignored plenty of things. They did not matter; he was outside, breathing in a false taste of freedom. The only thing that mattered.

He had smiled when the afternoon sun kissed his face, big and bright with teeth. And then he looked over his shoulder and smiled again. This time at Lorenzo and Darius. Back then, he could have sworn their breaths were caught in their throats by the way their bodies tensed up and their eyes dilated. Then again, he might have imagined it all.

That was one year.

After they let him out of the backyard, they started fucking regularly—the three of them. Zane enjoyed it as he enjoyed it the first time; he relished it. Sometimes he believed they were not fucking; instead, they were making intimate, passionate, lovemaking, by the way the two alphas would caress him: so tender, so desirous—like a priceless jewel. They painted his body with their mouths, coloring him from head to toe. In a sense, they were worshipping him like a god while he wallowed it all up every time, always hungry for the praise and touches.

One time, after their lovemaking, Darius gave him a massage while he lay naked on his stomach. It was a rainy day, and he had his eyes on a shirtless Lorenzo who stood by the sliding doors, staring outside with a cigarette in one hand while the other was stuffed into his pajama pocket.

Their lives felt so domesticated, so wholesome, and blissful. But then he glanced down at his chained ankle, and then he touched his unmarked neck, and all his thoughts about the three of them disappeared. Was he truly a mere plaything? Was he a sort of war prize for them to feed their own egos? Zane just did not know what to think or what to make out of the situation. So he did not think. Instead, he pressed his face against the pillow and inhaled, hoping to stifle himself. When his lungs had started burning, though, and his traitorous body screamed for air, he moved his face away and pretended it never happened while Darius moved to rub under his feet next.

That was ten months.

Soon, Valentine's Day arrived.

Like most days, the day had begun very pleasantly.

Lorenzo had woken up Zane and Darius from slumber, greeting them both with a feverish kiss, two separate bouquets of several dozen red roses, and a "Happy Valentine's Day, darlings" to start their morning. The gesture was so simple, so sweet; Zane had smiled with pure happiness before he could stop himself. Then Lorenzo dug his hand into his pocket and gave them both jewelry boxes. Each had an identical golden ring, almost like a simple wedding band. It reminded Zane of the one he lost, the one sitting on Darius's finger. Still, although his face had fallen, he allowed Lorenzo to put it on his left ring finger without resistance.

Darius had given them gifts too.

Zane had watched him with curious eyes while he walked over to the walk-in closet. When Darius returned, his hands were filled with gift bags before he shoved them into Lorenzo's lap and kissed him, giving him a little peck on the lips. When Darius did not do the same for him, Zane's insides grew cold, and he readied himself to get up, only to be dragged down by Darius, who gave him one of the two gift bags that instantly warmed his insides back up.

Darius had also given them both identical gifts: heart-shaped boxes—the red velvet kind—filled with chocolates and green Hawaiian-style shirts that gave Zane an eye sore. Darius had even gotten one for himself, and he appeared excited when Lorenzo offered to take him to Phuket for the weekend so they could wear their shirts together.